Jasper County Democrat, Volume 12, Number 16, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 29 May 1909 — The Round-Up A Romance of Arizona Novelized Form Bdmund Day's Melodrama [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

The Round-Up A Romance of Arizona Novelized Form Bdmund Day's Melodrama

By JOHN MURRAY and MILLS MILLER

SYNOPSIS. Chapter I—Returning with gold from the mines to an Arizona ranch to claim Echo Allen, hi* promised bride, Dick Lane is attacked by Apaches led by Buck McKee, a renegade.' After spending six months in a hospital Lane writes to his friend Jack Payson, owner of the Sweetwater ranch, to tell Echo he Is coming home. He tells Payson he has $3,000 to pay a mortgage placed by Jack on his ranch to help him. II —Colonel Jim Allen, owner of the Bar One ranch, is father of Echo and father by adoption of Polly Hope, Dick and Bud Lane. Polly and Bud are sweethearts. In Dick's absence Echo falls in love with Jack, realizing that her love for Dick was merely friendship. Dick is believed to be dead, owing to the return of McKee with a lying story. Bud “chums" with McKee despite the warnings of Slim Hoover, the fat and popular sheriff. Echo and Jack become engaged. 111. — Echo declares to Jack after the latter suppresses Dick’s letter, fearing to lose her, that she will be true to her promise to Dick if he returns. Bud quarrels with Jack about Echo, the boy championing his absent brother’s cause. IV —Aided by Bud, McKee murders Terrill, the station agent, stealing from him $3,000 of county money. McKee suggests to Bud that Dick may still be living. V—The boys gather at the Allen ranch for the wedding of Echo and Jack. VI and Vll—McKee plans to to throw suspicion of Terrill’s murder on Jack, and he and Bud go to <Jhe Allens’* for the wedding. Mckee raises a disturbance and is put out. VIII— All ready for the wedding. IX — Dick turns up at the Allens’ just as his rweetheart is married to Jack. Only Allen and Jack see him. Jack is tempted to shoot his friend, who pays the $3,000 to him and returns to the desert. X —The cowpunchers send for a piano as a surprise for Echo, now married to Jack. XI — Jack keeps his business affairs secret from his wife, not daring to tell her where he got the $3,000 to pay the mortgage. Polly flirts with Slim, although she loves bud The boys give the piano to Echo. Buck McKee comes to Payson’s at the head of his followers, the Lazy K outfit, to accuse Payson of killing Terrill. XU —Buck accuses Jack, and the young man refuses to clear himself by telling where he got the money. Slim puts McKee and his men off the Payson place. Jack confesses to his wife his deception to her regarding Dick, amL she sends him to the desert to llnd Dick and bring him back to hear from her own lips that she Relieved him dead when she promised to marry Jack, Forgetting he is under suspicion of killing Terrill, Jack goes. Echo tries to call him back, but is prevented by Bud. Slim, as sheriff, pursues Jack. XIII —In the desert are Dick, sought by Jack, the latter pursued by Slim and a posse, and a band of Apaches hunted by a troop of soldiers. XlV—Jack finds Dick to send him back to Echo with his own supply of water and food, he himself staying in the desert to expiate his unfaithfulness to his friend. The two are attacked by the Apaches. Dick is killed and Jack is wounded. He is rescued by Slim and the troops. XV-—McKee and his men start trouble with the Sweetwater outfit, Peruna, ope of McKee's men, falsely branding some of the Sweetwater calves and shooting one of the Sweetwater boys. XVl—Echo regrets her haste in sending away her husband, whom she dearly loves. Buck McKee and his gang gather at the Sweetwater ranch to defend Peruna. The latter insults Echo and is knocked down by McKee as a pretence to virtue. Peruna thereupon determines to “get even” with McKee.

CHAPTER XVII. BUD’S conscience was not troubling him so much now. In | fact, he was rather proud of his conduct of late. He had shaken Buck McKee, and he hud forgiven Echo for ail the hard thoughts he had against her—without considering that she would be more than woman If she failed to harbor resentment against the man who hud prevented her from calling her husband back from the desert. In the absence of Slim both Bud and McKee had uttalned a feeling of security in the matter of the Terrill murder. McKee had already ventured to use some of his share of the robbery In gambling. Bud had not yet convinced himself either of the right or the advisability of spending his share. Both conscience and fear advised him to keep tne blood money intact He carried It with him wherever he went and became In time quite pleased with himself because of his compunctions in doing so. He was even Pharisaical about McKee’s gambling. No; when his mind had become clear about keeping it be would make an honest use of It, such as investing In a saloon in Florence. When, however, he suggested to Polly that dispensing liquors over a bar and running a faro game on the side would be a congenial occupation suited to their talents she sat down forcibly upon bis aspiration, and they Anally compromised on Polly's proposition to conduit a livery stable in Tucson, where, Polly felt, though she did not say so to Bud, that Sheriff Hoover, with whom she fegd been fllrtlng too

dangerously, would not be in evidence, as in Florence. Polly, however, was greatly puzzled over Bud’s confidence In bis ability to raise the wind that would launch this delectable but to her mind illusory enterprise. In a moment of weakness he intimated that he already had the money in hand. “How did you gel it?” she demanded. “Saved it,” he said. When she asked him how he could have saved the thousand dollars demanded for the stable out of bis salary of S4O a month he replied: "By economizing. I’ve cut off my chewing tobacco.” “That cost you but two bits a week, an’ you’ve taken up cigarettes at a dime a day,” said observant Polly. “I know what you’ve been doin’. You’ve been gamblin’.” “Cross my heart, Polly, I haven’t," said Bud, and Polly, who had no great objection to using money won at cards so long as she did not positively know the fact, discontinued her objections and resumed the delightful occupation of castle building.’ The home she had in view consisted of three rooms over the livery stable. “I want u red carpet in the front room ah’ wall paper like that at Bowen’s store, with bosses Jumpin’ gates on lt”“Dou’t you think there will be a little too much horse there, Polly, with the stable under us and the smell coming up?" “Sho, Bud, you can’t have too much hoss. Why, it was the hoss smell about your clothes that made me fall in love with you," exclaimed the enthusiastic horsewoman. She continued: “An’l want a yellow plush furniture set, an’ a photograph album to match, an’ a center table, an’ a ‘Rock of Ages’ picture, an’ a boudoir”— A boudoir was beyond the ken of Bud. He knew nothing of housekeeping. This must be one of those strange articles the mystery of which he would have to solve before he could feel that he was really a married' man. “What the devil is a boudoir?” he asked. “I don’t know what it is, but all rich women have them.” Bud took both of Polly’s hands in his. Looking her fondly in the eyes, he said: “Then, by thunder, I’ll get you two of ’em. We’ll raise the limit when we furnish that shack. I’m the happiest man in the couutry.” “Well, you ought to be,” laughed Polly. “Just see what you are gettin’. “I’ve got to chase myself back to the house. You’re ridln’ night herd tonight, ain’t you?” she added. “Yes. I’m on the cocktail tonight. I am going to bunk down here. I’ll be up at the house at sunup, and we can go over to Florence together.”

“I’ll have breakfast ready fer yorRope my pony for me, will you?” Bud was smiling and happy again. All of his troubles were forgotten. “All right!" he cried as he started to mount. “Say, you’re awful forgetful, aren’t you?” asked Tolly demurely. Bud looked about him, slightly bewildered. Then he realized his oversight He ran to Polly’s side and tried to kiss her, but she motioned him aside, saying: “Too late. You lose.” “But I didn't know,'* stammered Bud. “Next time you’ll know. On your way!” airily commanded the girl. Bud’s face darkened. “Oh, well, goodby.” Polly looked after him, perplexed and angry. His surrender to her whims without a fight nettled her. “Goodby yourself,” she snapped. “He’s the most forgetful man I ever loved. If I thought he was a gamblin’ man I’d get a divorce from him before I married him. I would sure,” murmured Polly as Bud disappeared toward the corral. Polly’s musing was Interrupted oy the return of Buck McKee. “Is Bud Lane over here?” he asked. “You must have passed him just now. He’s just got In from night herdin’.” “I thought I seed him cornin’ this

way. When’s the wed din’ bell* goto’ to ring?” Polly flushed. “Next month. Then you’ll lose Bud’s company fer good.” she answered defiantly, “Well, I haln’t been doin’ him much good,” Buck assented. “I’m goto* back borne, though.” Polly gazed at Buck In surprise. Here was a new view of the man, one she had never considered. It was strange to hear this outlaw and bad man talk of a home. The repetition of the word “home” by Polly led him to, continue: “Yep, up to the strip, where I wu» bomed at. This here climate’s a leetie too dry to suit me. I’m goto’ to get a leetle ranch an’ a leetle gal an’ settle down fer sure.” “I wish you may,” said Polly beart■y. “You sure acted mighty fine about that Peruna insultin’ Mrs. Payson.” Bnck sat down on the step of the wagon. He hesitated for a moment and then asked, “Say, did yon ever have a premonition?” “Nope! The worst I ever had was the hookin’ cough.” Buck smiled, but did not explain to Polly the meaning of the word. “Well, this premonition,” he continued, “hits me hard, an’ that’s what makes me start fer home. Thonght I’d like to say goodby to you an* Bud. I go north with the big drive to the momin’ an’ won’t see you agin.” “Well, good tack an’ goodby to you.” Polly held out her hand in her most friendly fashion. Buck arose and took off his hat As he stepped toward her he cried: “Same to you. Goodby.” Grasping her by the hand, he added warmly. “An’— happiness.” “I’ll tell Bud you’re here," cried Polly over her shoulder. Buck looked after the girl as she swung across the prairie to find Bud. “She’s a darned fine leetle gal,” mused Buck. “Seein’ Bud so happy kinder makes me homesick. Things is gettin’ too warm fer me here, anyway. If Payson gits back he’ll be able to clear himself about that Terrill business, an’ things is likely to p’lnt pretty straight at me an’ Bud. I’m sorry I dragged Bud Into that. I could have done it alone jes’ as well an’ kep’ all the money.”

McKee sat down to wait for Bud. His mind was filled with pleasant thoughts. Having assumed a chivalrous role in the Peruna incident, he was tasting something of the sweet sensations and experiences that follow a sincerely generous action. His enjoyment in contemplating bis own virtues was overcrowded,* however, by a vague presentiment of impending danger, the “premonition” he had spoken of to Polly, a word he had .picked up from fortune tellers, whom he often consulted, being very superstitious, as are most gamblers. And Nemesis in the person of Peruna was indeed approaching. The outlaw crept out of the draw behind the contemplative half breed and, leaping upon his back, plunged his knife in McKee’s neck with a fierce thrust, into which he concentrated ail his hatred for the humiliation he had endured. With a stifled cry Buck struggled to his feet to face his assailant, drawing his gun Instinctively. The knife had bitten too deeply, however. With a groan he fell. Weakly he tried to level his gun. his finger twitching convulsively at the trigger. Peruna waited to see if he had strength enough to fire. A sneering smile added to the evil appearance of his face. Seeing Buck helpless, he snatched the gun from his hand. Thdi he turned his victim over so he could reach the pocket of his waistcoat. With the blood stained knife he ripped open the cloth and extracted a roll of paper and money. Peruna was kneeling beside the body of his former friend when a voice drawled: “Drop that knife!”

Peruna jumped up, with a grunt of dismay, to see Slim Hoover sitting on horseback, with his revolver held upright, ready for use. Peruna hesitated. “Drop It!” ordered Slim sharply, slightly lowering the gun. Peruna tossed away the knife, with a snarl. “I’ll take care of your friend's bundle an’ the papers an’ money you took from his pocket. Drop them! I didn’t figure on gettin’ back to business as soon as I got home, but you never can tell, can you?’ The last remark was addressed to his deputy, Timber Wiggins, who had joined him. “This here’s Timber Wiggins, deputy sheriff of Pinal county,’’ explained Slim for Peruna’s enlightenment. “Mr. Wiggins, will you take care of this friend of mine?” continued the sheriff, glancing from Peruna, who looked at him stolidly, to Wiggins. “I reckon he’s been doin’ somethin’ naughty." The two men dismounted, keeping the outlaw covered and watching his every glance. “Anything to oblige," replied Wiggins, who had solemnly entered with Slim into his assumed formality. Wiggins steppCa behind Peruna and, reaching forward, removed Buck’s gun from the outlaw’s holster, which had been empty since Buck, earlier in the day, had taken his revolver after he had insulted Echo. “Anything to oblige,” said Wiggins to Slim. Then to Peruna he commanded: “Let’s take a walk. You first. I’m noted fer my politeness.” “You might tie him up some,” suggested Slim. “I sure will,” answered the deputy as he marched bis prisoner toward the corral. Slim hastened tq the side of the fallen man and turned him over on his back to get a glimpse of Peruna’s victim. He saw that Buck was still breathing, although mortally wounded, the blood gushing from his mouth. McKee recognised the sheriff. “Hellol When did you ait back?" he asked.

“Jes’ now. Is Ibis your money?’ said Slim, bolding the role to front of McKee’s eyes. “No; it’s your’n—part uv what I took from ‘Ota Man’ Terrill. The idee uv not recognizin’ yer own property!” McKee grinned at his Joke on the sheriff. “I held the old man up, an’ that’s all there is to it” “Who was with you?’ asked Slim. “There was two.” McKee was silent. “Bud McKee was the other man,” hazarded Slim. “No”— began Buck, but Slim interrupted him. “He was with you that night He come to the weddln’ with you. It ain’t no use in denyin’ it. I’ve been thinkin’ it all out I was fooled by Jack’s pacin’ hoss. You an’ Bud”— Here McKee Interrupted with a solemn denial. Whether from a desire to foil the sheriff, whom he knew was Bud’s rival in love and so thought him the young man’s enemy, or from the benevolent spirit induced by the recent contemplation of his virtues, McKee was impelled to give an account of the murder which very convincingly indiBud as a protesting catspaw rather than a consenting accomplice. At the end of the story he smiled grimly: “So while you wuz out uv the county on a wil’ goose chase after an lnnercent

man Peruna he goes loco on paten’ medicine an’ gits the guilty party. Joke’s on you, Slim. I nomernate Peruna fer nex’ sheriff.” Exhausted with the effort and pain of talking. McKee dropped his head upon Hoover’s broad breast In a faint Hoover bore him down to the spring and bathed his wound and mouth. McKee revived and in broken phrases, which were accompanied with blood from his pierced Jungs frothing out of his mouth, continued his observations on the ridiculous and unfortunate mistake Peruna made to killing him. “Dem fool’s bes’ fr’en’—l would herd—’th low down intellecks—nev’ 'predated—no chance—to be firs’ class —bad man.” And so Buck McKee, desperado, died, like many another ambitious soul, with expressions of disappointment, oh his lips. (To be Continued)

“What the devil it a boudoir ?” he asked.

“Drop it !” ordered Slim sharply.